Brew Views: The Goonies

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I often wonder whether The Goonies is held
in as high esteem elsewhere as it is in the Northwest. For most Oregon
natives now on the cusp of their 30s, the 1985 film was a rite of
passage—not only did the Astoria-based adventure flick’s scenery seem
familiar, but we treated Goonies as a pre-Internet personality
test. I always saw myself as a Mikey/Chunk hybrid, a true-believer
underdog type who inevitably gets the girl in the end, but also a great
dancer with a fondness for ice cream and a giant mutant for a best
friend. I’d suggest catching the film as it was meant to be seen: with a
half-melted Baby Ruth bar in your pocket and a Cyndi Lauper song in
your heart. Laurelhurst.